


Happy 32nd, Sammy

by luciusmistress



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Birthday Fluff, Brother Feels, Brotherly Love, Gen, Sam's Birthday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-28 17:15:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3862888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luciusmistress/pseuds/luciusmistress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To Sam's surprise, Dean actually remembers his birthday.</p>
<p>Can be read either as gen or as slightly wincest-y, according to your preference. :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy 32nd, Sammy

**Author's Note:**

> Just a fairly fluffy little thing I wrote for Sam's birthday. I meant to do something longer and fancier, but I'm having a migraine and wanted to get something out there while it's still Sam's b-day and I'm still vertical, so here you have it. Hope you enjoy! :)

Dean came back from a supply run and headed straight for the kitchen, barely giving Sam a nod in passing. Sam shrugged and went back to the ancient grimoire he was studying. He hadn't really expected Dean to remember, not with everything they had going on.

Just when Sam had started to wonder what was taking him so long, Dean reappeared, a bottle in one hand and a plate in the other. He plonked the bottle on the table in front of Sam. Sam glanced at it, went back to reading and then did a double take.

"Smirnoff? Seriously?"

Dean shrugged. "You're into that crap, aren't you?"

Sam swallowed. He'd had no idea that Dean knew he secretly preferred vodka. Whiskey had always been the drink of choice in his family, so, since he didn't drink all that much, he'd never bothered to get himself a bottle. A drink of Dean's whiskey now and then was just fine. But... Sam smiled up at his brother, at a loss for words.

Dean cupped his face for a second, a thumb sliding over a dimple on Sam's cheek. "Missed those," he muttered, almost too softly for Sam to hear. He cleared his throat, clearly embarrassed for the chick-flick moment, and put the plate down right on top of Sam's very old and very valuable book. Sam grabbed the plate quickly and slid the grimoire a safe distance away. Only then did he take a look at the sandwich sitting on the plate. Sam stared at it for a second, smelled it, and then lifted the top slice to make sure. His eyebrows flew up.

"Banana and peanut butter?"

Dean smirked at him. "Happy birthday, bitch."


End file.
